


Ashes to Ashes

by albawrites



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Knotting, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albawrites/pseuds/albawrites
Summary: After Sypha and Trevor leave for their travels, Alucard thinks he's alone in the castle. Soon, he realizes he isn't the only one left behind by Dracula's mad war.orAlucard and a Blue Fang get along real nice like.





	Ashes to Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> There is nothing explicit in this chapter. I'll be sure to mark when there will be explicit content.

The library is probably the best place to start. It’s as good as any, but it’s easier to tidy than, say, the melted shambles of the engine hall or picking up the remains of dead vampires in stairwells and the throne room. Preferable, even. That, and he doesn’t think he could stand to look at the study or his bedroom -- or, Hell forbid it, his parents’ rooms.

He could spend hours like this, reorganizing. So, he does. Alucard has slept for a year and that’s more than enough to be tormented by nightmares of his burning mother. He hardly needs to add more by remembering that he’d murdered his own father as well. As such, sleep isn’t on the schedule.

That, and if he stops, he thinks he’ll break.

It doesn’t even take a full day before Alucard does find himself missing Trevor and Sypha. Even as he’d banter with them and mock the last son of the Belmonts for every ridiculous flaw, he knows he would take them back immediately if they turned around and decided to stay. A part of him had wanted to, truly, but he’d insisted they go.

 _I’m fine,_ he’d said. _I have plenty to do. There’s much to clean, much to organize, and I’m not eager to leave rotting bodies in the Belmont hold even if they smell about the same as our present Belmont._

Trevor had uttered a _fuck off_ before he’d acquiesced that Alucard wasn’t necessarily wrong.

He told them it was all right to go. He wishes, quietly, that they didn’t believe the lie but in the end it’d been for the best. They don’t deserve to be weighted by his mourning. It is too much to have already been burdened by the task of fighting Dracula, his horde, and his court. He would not have done the same with his grief.

And so, his first day has already been spent with bitter work: in the depths of the Belmont estate’s hold are the rotting corpses of the beasts sent after them. It is with some effort that he heaves them out from under the earth, even if it means he has to float from deep underground to the surface, hauling the dead bodies to above. There are no stairs, no Sypha to lift and help him. Just him and his vampiric heritage using brute strength and flight to sort it all out.

It is grueling, and he is not even finish with his task. Though he already stinks of congealed, unnatural blood staining his clothes and sticking to his skin, he knows he has the castle to deal with as well. So, in front of the castle, he leaves a mound of bodies where soon there would be more to join them.

For whatever the sunlight has touched within the castle, there only remains the scorched skeletons of vampires and decaying bodies that also belonged to his father’s night horde. The work is no less gruelling, dragging them away and over into the growing pile of Dracula’s war efforts. 

The only relief he has is that he doesn’t have to drag down his father’s body to join them. That had been taken care of adequately by Sypha.

Alucard’s entire day is occupied, hours of finding every remaining corpse in both homes to Belmont and Ţepeş. Just as the sun begins to finally set over the horizon and lost to the foliage, the skin becomes orange and pink just as the darkness begins to settle in. The pile of bodies is set aflame into a wretched bonfire, the flames taking away whatever was left to serve his father and his crusade against humanity.

Slowly, he sits down, still stewing in his own filth after all of the effort. He watches, arms folded over his knees, feeling inescapably small. This barely scratches the surface of what has to be done, and it already has the weight of being so, so much. The flames flicker, flesh popping, bones crumbling.

This, like everything else in his life, falls to the fire.

There is a tight feeling in his throat, and Alucard grits his teeth, fiercely struggling against himself for a moment as his eyes burn. He won’t, he _won’t._

There’s the sound of whining nearby, not coming from him or the pile. Alucard turns around sharply, his eyes wide. From within the castle, there is a scurrying sound to go with the whimpers. It doesn’t sound like any beast he knows.

Alucard frowns and rises to his feet, stepping just a few feet into the castle’s entrance. Immediately rushing to his feet yipping and barking is a little dog, but bones are exposed.

“A forgemaster’s work?” he murmurs, studying the glowing eye from the dog that’s pawing at his leg so insistently. “Suppose that would explain the power of my father’s army. Though I certainly found none as such in the castle.” Alucard kneels down, and immediately the dog is throwing himself into the dhampir’s arms. It causes him to go still for a moment, then he sighs and gently pats the dog’s head.

Around the canine’s neck is a nametag.

“Cezar,” Alucard says softly, which earns a pleased bark from the pug. “Hm.” Gently, he scratches under the dog’s chin. “Whatever were you here for, Cezar?”

All he receives in turn is a cheery _woof_ as Cezar is immediately content in Alucard’s hold, despite all appearances. It is, in a way, comforting to have the harmless company even if it leads to some difficult information to take in. There were forgemasters here, now there are not.

There are still men loyal to Dracula who wander the world, somehow having escaped their invasion of the castle. Though undoubtedly the task could be handled by Sypha and Trevor, he does wish he had a way to contact them to let them know.

“They’ll manage,” he mutters, as if Cezar can understand. “They left, it’s what they wanted. I can’t do anything else about that.”

He wishes he could tell himself it was enough for anyone.

 

-=-=-

 

The following days felt more like uncomfortable busywork than as horrid as the day before. The most pressing issue is finding a way to access the Belmont’s knowledge without having to fly down a hole every time. It’ll need a new seal, a new way down. Now that the bodies have been dealt with, the matter is slightly less pressing, but it is still work to be done.

In addition, it allows him to avoid the deeper matters of the castle, pressing at his back like a set of knives.

The castle is lonely, the Belmont hold no better, but he knows it could be so much worse if, for some reason, a forgemaster didn’t decide to revive a dog from the dead as a pet. It’s a curious thing considering how friendly Cezar is, but it is a mixed blessing nonetheless. If nothing else, Cezar has been persistent company, wanting attention more than anything else. 

From the forest, Alucard returns with a dead rabbit in his hand. As he approaches the castle steps, Cezar barks and rushes up to welcome him back. Quietly, Alucard is grateful for it, smiling softly to the pug. It’s good to know that no matter what, at least Cezar is going to be happy to see him.

“Thank you. I don’t think you quite know how much you being here sets my mind at ease,” Alucard murmurs before he bites into the rabbit and drinks. In response, Cezar barks and sits down, watching him, little curled tail wagging.

Most humans would call the undead canine a horror, but honestly Cezar is … a little bit cute. Licking his lips, Alucard digs into the rabbit’s side before breaking off a bone from the rib cage. The sight of the bone immediately earns Cezar’s attention.

“Oh. Do you want this?” Alucard grins and holds it up. Predictably, Cezar whines, his tail wagging excitedly. 

Unable to tease the dog any further, Alucard throws the bone and Cezar, predictably, goes to fetch.

Alucard’s smile becomes slightly bittersweet. “How I wish I could be as careless as you, my little friend.”

Though for as much as he values Cezar’s company, keeping the pug safe is also something he’s quickly learned that he needs to be mindful of. For awhile, every time he’d floated down the hole leading to the Belmont trove, Cezar would usually sit at the opening and whine for Alucard. A bit heart rendering, but it could be set aside to keep on his work.

The day in which Cezar tries to jump in after Alucard is what causes him to think he really needs another solution. 

“You really can’t do that,” Alucard says sternly after he’d managed to catch the dog, to which Cezar replies with a bark and eagerly licking his face.

It’s impossible to stay mad.

Thus, Alucard comes up with a solution, though not the most graceful one. With some scrap cloth available, he’s arranged Cezar as a bundle, tying the pug up against his chest. This seems to be enough for Cezar, who in turn wiggles to get comfortable before effectively taking a nap while being terribly cozy.

“Oh, but to be a simple reanimated dog,” Alucard muses to himself as he works.

Ultimately, as he clears out the gaping entrance, he isn’t terribly excited about building an expansive staircase. A lift, he thinks, is all the more efficient and should Trevor and Sypha ever return he would be glad to see their utter confusion over the machine. It’s a simple enough mechanism to make, and whatever remains of the castle’s engine should be enough to manufacture the material for it.

Clearing the hole takes a day, removing debris and preparing it. Finding the right material inside the castle is another task entirely that requires plenty of brute forcing through the melted remains of the engine’s chamber, but Alucard is confident he can either find or make enough of the materials. He isn’t thrilled to be back inside of the castle, but at least it isn’t to anywhere too sensitive, and it is brief.

However, when he begins his way back outside with the sun setting and the sky pinkened, he stops, frozen in his tracks. Cezar, still the wrapped bundle against his chest, starts to bark excitedly.

Standing in front of the castle steps is the familiar sight of a Blue Fang, and by the looks of it, completely alone. Alucard holds still a moment as he looks over the beast. More than the kind of demon it is, he realizes that he does truly know him.

“Your master is dead,” Alucard says cautiously.

The Blue Fang tilts his head. “I did not return for Master Dracula.”

“Then are you here to avenge him?” Alucard asks, scowling. “Whatever history we shared, I would not be merciful.”

“I do not celebrate Master Dracula’s demise, but we both know what you lived to do, Master Adrian.” The Blue Fang makes one step to approach, then bows his head. “I do not live to betray you.”

Alucard releases a breath, but feels no more settled. “Why are you here, Sergius?”

“I returned to where I am needed.” The Blue Fang -- Sergius, his eyes peer at Alucard, but not with scrutiny. There is a glimmer of curiosity there. “I am here for you, Master Adrian.”

“Are you alone?” Alucard demands.

“Yes.”

“When did you leave the horde?”

A grin splits the Blue Fang’s face open, glowing teeth prominent as Sergius chuckles. “After I chewed off the Bishop’s face. The one that murdered your mother.”

Alucard goes very still at those words, unsure of how to react. A tremor passes through his body.

“I did not forget your keep under Gresit. I did not forget my promise to you. But I would not squander the chance to avenge you.” Sergius lifts his head. “If you tell me to leave, I will do it, but I have no place in the horde now. There is no pack for me, Master Adrian.”

There are thoughts and emotions rushing through Alucard’s mind. Yet another stray in the aftermath of his father’s slaughter and suicide, left behind to determine his place, how he might fit into life now. A bitter part of Alucard wants to turn the Blue Fang away, not desiring the brutal reminder of all that’s come to pass. The castle is enough for that.

But he horribly yearns for company. Cezar is wonderful, but does only so much to quell that loneliness.

“You will obey my command,” Alucard says, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Alucard exhales slowly. “Then welcome home, Sergius of the Blue Fang Clan.”

There is a wryness in the smile on Sergius’ face, his tone almost coy. “It is well appreciated, my kind master.”

**Author's Note:**

> Upon rewatching, it appears that we only bear witness to one Blue Fang, but I like to think that there are many. Sergius is a completely original character since I have something of a quiet obsession with the monsters of Castlevania, especially the Blue Fangs, and wanted to explore more since they seem completely sentient and unique. So, bearing that in mind, this fic's canon treats Sergius as the Blue Fang who killed the Bishop but not the same Blue Fang that Trevor killed.
> 
> Also I like to think Cezar is still in the castle. C'mon, season 3. Give us therapy dog.


End file.
